


i don’t know where to put my hands

by loverboy (fioner)



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Bubble Bath, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Requited Love, a sprinkle of snorkmyden. for flavor, the mortifying ordeal of being known with the added reward of being loved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fioner/pseuds/loverboy
Summary: Snufkin takes a walk, a bath, and a good look at himself. With Moomintroll by his side, naturally.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 109





	i don’t know where to put my hands

**Author's Note:**

> some quick notes: snufkin and moomin take a bath together in this. they don’t like. do anything but i know some folks might not be super comfortable with that 
> 
> title is from francis forever by mitski

Little My’s boots make a horrid  _ shluck _ -ing noise as she frees them from the mud. She’s cross, Snufkin can tell, although he does allow himself to imagine a world in which Little My  _ isn’t _ cross. 

Unpleasant. 

Moomintroll, ahead of them both, has been so thoroughly covered in dirt and mud that you can only barely see bits of still-dry white fur. There’s a leaf stuck behind his ear. 

Snufkin would say he looks rather dashing, if one were to ask Snufkin what he thought of Moomintroll like this. Then again, Snufkin thinks Moomintroll always looks rather dashing, so maybe his perspective is a bit skewed. Still, he doesn’t see how anyone could look at the person they love covered in mud and bits of moss and probably a bug or two and not fall even more hopelessly in love with them. 

“You’re purring,” comes Little My from beside him. Snufkin hadn’t even realized he had stopped walking, but sure enough his boots were sinking ever so slightly deeper into the mud and his tail was twitching with fondness. Traitorous thing, his tail, but not quite as damning as the low rumble verberating from his chest and throat. 

“Who doesn’t love a spa treatment like this?”

”You, probably.” 

Snufkin only sticks his tongue at her in response.

Little My rolls her eyes, and begins to  _ schluck-schluck  _ her way to slightly more solid ground. 

It doesn’t take them too long, with Moomintroll leading the way and Snufkin taking the rear. He’s glad he left his pack at his campsite, as it surely would have weighed him down unpleasantly and made his traverse a great deal more difficult. As it is, he manages to hop from slightly-less-muddy spots to other slightly-less-muddy spots without very much trouble. 

He doesn’t refuse Moomintroll’s offer of help over a log though, taking his paw and letting him pull Snufkin up and close to him. 

“Thank you, Moomintroll,” says Snufkin, blushing. 

“Of course, Snufkin,” says Moomintroll, blushing. 

“Oi! Get going!” says Little My, somehow still cross. 

And then they are on a proper path and finding their way back to Moominhouse easily enough, just tired enough to not have to worry about striking up a conversation. Moomintroll even offers to carry Little My on his shoulders, who refuses due to the fact that he is very much covered in mud, and even has a leaf sticking out from behind his ear. Moomintroll immediately goes to pick it out, flushing an embarrassed red. 

Pity. The leaf  _ was  _ cute. 

Moominmamma is pleased to see them, as she always is, although she insists on them each bathing before they sit down to eat. Little My offers her assistance by splashing Moomintroll with a large bucket off water, effectively ridding most of the dirt from his fur. 

Moomintroll splutters for a moment, his tail stuck out straight behind him. He looks ready to yell at her, or to grind his teeth completely away. He turns to his mother instead. 

“Little My pushed me, Mamma! Right into the deepest mud puddle I have ever seen,” Moomintroll pouts, a towel dropped into his paws. 

She hums, holding a towel out in Snufkin’s direction, who takes it gratefully. “I’m sure she had her reasons, dear.” 

Little My grins, sharp. “I did not!”

Snufkin goes to turn, so he could dip very quickly into the river and be back before the coffee was cold (a novel thought: Snufkin can’t ever remember a time where the coffee ran cold in Moominhouse), but Moominmamma catches him with a look. 

“Snufkin, dear, why don’t you use our bath? It will be much more pleasant than the river. Moomintroll can draw it for you after his, and I’ll even launder your coat and stockings.” 

Snufkin’s first instinct is to refuse and assure her that the river will do just fine, thank you Mamma, but something in her eye has him hesitantly nodding and mumbling a “yes, thank you very much.”

A Moominmamma  _ look _ is something rather powerful, and Snufkin hopes that his Moomin never figures it out on his own features. As though Snufkin needed another reason to drop everything and do as Moomintroll wished. 

The troll in question has finished wiping off most the large clumps of mud that didn’t come off during their trek home, and he looks up at Snufkin. He’s gone red. “We,” he clears his throat. “We could just share the bath, of course.” 

For a moment, Snufkin stands very, very still. He takes a breath, and clamps down on the instinct to tilt his hat down to cover his face. 

“That could work.” Good, not weird. He didn’t even accidentally turn Moomintroll down. 

Moomintroll smiles in a relieved sort of way that means he was fretting something terrible in the few moments the notion had entered his mind. Snufkin sort-of-maybe-definitely wants to kiss that smile and his worries away. He abstains. 

Moominmamma clears her throat, politely and not in a manner that could even begin to be considered amused. Probably. “I’ll draw the bath then, and you can wait out here in the last of the sun. Snufkin, why don’t you let your coat drip out here, I’ll grab it while you two get clean.” 

Snufkin begins to shrug off the sodden wool mess. “Thank you, Mamma. Sincerely.” 

Moominmamma smiles at him, lovingly. “Of course, dear.” 

It doesn’t take too long for the water to be heated and the tub to be filled, and Moomintroll and Snufkin are finally allowed into the house. With little to-do, they take the stairs one at a time, Snufkin trailing only the slightest behind. He doesn’t get too far when Moomintroll is reaching back, grabbing his paw. A gentle tug, and he’s by Moomintroll’s side. 

The bathroom in Moominhouse is large, with a standing tub in the center. The tub itself is sturdy, big enough to hold a Moomin and a half. Which is fortunate, as it is about to hold a Moomin and a half. There is a moment of silence, of stillness, where Moomintroll and Snufkin simply stare at the water. 

“Why don’t you get-“ 

“Moomintroll, do you want to-“

Silence again, which Moomintroll breaks with his laughter. It’s a good laugh, the kind that inspires the people who hear it to join in. Snufkin smiles, and Moomintroll takes a breath. 

“You can get in first, if you’d like.”

Kind, he’s always kind. “Thank you, but you should get in while I undress. Not all of us walk around the forest with no clothes on.” 

Moomintroll scowls at him, playfully. “Apologies, sir. Didn’t realize you had suddenly manifested a sense of  _ decency. _ ”

Snufkin laughs at that, and Moomintroll’s tail swishes back and forth, pleased. Moomintroll moves to the tub then, clambering in. Snufkin takes this opportunity to shuck his trousers and muslin, folding them up and quickly placing them just on the other side of the door. He turns back to see Moomintroll pointedly not watching him, for which he is grateful. It’s not the first time the two of them have been less-than-covered in front of each other, and it likely won’t be the last, but Snufkin appreciates the promise of privacy nonetheless. 

Snufkin climbs into the tub. It’s warm, and smells like lavender and vanilla. Knees pulled up to his chest, it’s easy to relax with Moomintroll close but not touching and steam rising up around them. 

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them too concerned with getting the remaining dirt off. 

“Do you remember,” Moomintroll begins. “When Mamma forced you into a bath for the first time.” Snufkin scrunches up his nose. 

“Vividly.” Moomintroll laughs at his tone. 

“Oh, don’t be like that! She was just trying to be kind. And it’s not like she stole away with you and tried to down you.” 

Snufkin scoffs. “Because it’s so easy to refuse Mamma when she gives you direct order. Besides, it’s not like I wasn’t  _ clean _ enough already.” Moomintroll hums, and Snufkin’s head shoots up. “I was not so dirty,” he exclaims, tone petulant. 

Moomintroll tilts his head, and Snufkin knows he’s swallowing laughter. “Maybe you weren’t the most filthy beast in Moominvalley, but you were ten and your hygiene routine did not really extend past a dip in the river every so often.” Snufkin didn’t roll his eyes, choosing to flick suds towards Moomintroll instead. This attack is met with a dramatic gasp, and soapy water splashes right back at Snufkin. Bubbles start flying then, and Snufkin’s chest fills with snorting giggles and a satisfied purr. Their epic battle doesn’t last very long, ending with both of them struggling to catch their breath, lungs full of laughter. Snufkin’s purr grows to a deep rumble at the sight of a clump of suds just sitting on the side of Moomintroll’s snout. 

Snufkin suddenly finds his paw already brushing them away. Moomintroll’s giggles stop very suddenly. 

“Bubbles,” he says. Eloquent. “You had, uh- bubbles.” 

Moomintroll’s eyes are wide. Snufkin thinks he might want to look at his eyes forever. Which is scary. 

Snufkin’s paw is hanging in the air between them. Something else is too, undefined and terrifying and wonderful. 

There is a  _ knock knock  _ on the door. They startle, and Snufkin’s hand drops back into the water. 

“Snufkin, dear,” says Moominmamma, muffled by the heavy wooden door. “I’ve left some clean things for you to wear by the door.” 

“Thank you, Mamma,” says Snufkin, and he listens to her hum and the creak of floorboards that means she’s left. 

Snufkin stares down at the water. A big bubble between the two of them pops. 

“Oh!” Moomintroll says excitedly. “I have something for you!” He leans over the lip of the tub and presents Snufkin with a bar of soap. Snufkin raises an eyebrow. 

“It doesn’t have to be such a big deal that I’m  _ finally _ bathing.” 

The end of Moomintroll’s snout goes pink. “N-no, I know that. It’s um- it’s unscented? I know you usually don’t like the soaps we have because they tend to smell, and the perfume bothers your nose.” Moomintroll looks ready to continue rambling on until Snufkin stops him. So he does. 

“Thank you. Sincerely.” The tips of Snufkin’s ear are hot, so he knows they must be bright red. “This was very thoughtful.” 

“You’re very easy to think of,” Moomintroll replies, and a moment later he is bright pink again. Snufkin is sure he is much the same. There is a second then, of them just staring at each other and Snufkin holding a bar of carefully delivered unscented soap. It’s small, really, but it isn’t. It feels like something Snufkin can’t name and he’s not sure he wants to. 

“I’m going to get out of the tub now, but you’re more than willing to continue to soak,” is what Moomintroll finally says. Snufkin nods, sinking back down into the water, soap still in his paws. Moomintroll is not a small beast, and there is considerably less water in the tub than before he had left. Still he manages to remember to lean back over and turn the tap back on to fill it back up to its previous height, which is uncomfortably too much for any sensible creature and as such the perfect amount for Snufkin, who desperately tries not to focus on the fact that Moomintroll remembers how he prefers to take baths, or that fixing this one seemed like the most perfectly natural next step. 

Moomintroll dries himself off efficiently. Snufkin lingers in the warm tub. He’s put the soap to the side and closed his eyes, leaning his head back to properly soak his hair. His ears are submerged too, which is why he doesn’t hear Moomintroll until his friend is leaning over him, tapping him on the shoulder. Snufkin moves up and around to face him. 

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” 

A purr like one of the Snork’s engines erupts in his chest. Snufkin’s fingers itch to pull the brim of his hat down over his eyes. It’s a foolproof plan, but one that hinges on him actually wearing the hat. He swallows his mortification. Moomintroll cocks his head.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on then, move back in.” Snufkin lets Moomintroll turn him back around and he slips his shoulders under the water. Moomintroll brought the stool that sits by the sink over for him to sit on, as to not be too uncomfortable while making Snufkin feel like an over eager jackrabbit had settled into the place that once held his heart. 

The soap doesn’t smell like anything, which is wonderful. Snufkin really does have such a sensitive nose, and he genuinely enjoys the way Moomintroll experiments with lovely perfume-y scents. He once, on accident, told him that he smelled like a bouquet. He then, on purpose, spent the next five minutes reassuring him that it was quite manly to smell like begonias and honey. Snufkin simply can’t stand it on his own clothes or his fur. The rare occasion it happened left him feeling lightheaded and far too distracted, as if the smell had climbed up his furry nose and decided to make camp in his brain. 

Not pleasant. 

What is pleasant is the rhythmic massage Moomintroll performed on his scalp now. He hummed softly as he scrubbed, some soft lullaby or tune that Snufkin proudly recognized as one of his own. His purr rumbled on through his entire body, his toes and the tips of his fingers buzzing with relaxed delight. 

When they had been smaller, but not too small, Moominmamma would lead them up to this tub after almost every single one of their adventures. She would fill the tub up with bubbles and not let them leave until they were cleaner than Mrs. Fillyjonk’s favorite teacup. 

For anyone else, Snufkin would have refused and slipped away before he could see that he had hurt their feelings. Snufkin desperately hadn’t wanted to do that to Moominmama, which at the time had been quite the novel idea. 

Moomintroll’s humming tapers off. 

“I’m going to rinse the suds out now,” he says. Snufkin nods, moving up and forward a bit. Moomintroll laughs, kicking up the butterflies in Snufkin’s chest. “A little more than that, unless you want me to just dunk your head under the water. And tilt your head back.” 

Rolling his eyes, Snufkin leans his head back far enough that he’s looking straight up, up at Moomintroll above him. 

“This far enough?” 

His friend raises his eyebrow and brings his paws up to move Snufkin’s head back to a more comfortable position. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Makes you all the more fond of me, I think.” 

“That might be true.” Snufkin grins. “I remember you being a lot less ridiculous when we were younger.” Warm water cascades down Snufkin’s head. It’s so overwhelmingly pleasant it takes him a moment to respond. 

“I was always quite ridiculous, your head was just too full of clouds to see it.” The next pour goes straight down Snufkin’s face, and there’s a moment where he’s just spluttering. 

“Oops,” Moomintroll says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “You know, you can talk about my head being full of clouds all you want- but what is it exactly that you’re packing in your pipe?” 

Snufkin laughs at that, and after a moment Moomintroll joins him. 

“I’m all done now,” he says after another cup of water has run through Snufkin’s hair. Standing up, he dries his paws on a hanging washcloth. Snufkin trails his movement as he stretches and picks up a towel to put closer to the tub. “I’ll go down and start making something to eat, if Mamma hasn’t already.” He pauses. “I don’t mean to presume that you’ll be staying, of course.” 

Snufkin takes a moment to think it over. 

“I’ll stay,” he decides. “Provided that you don’t make anymore gunpowder pancakes.” 

Moomintroll’s eyes narrow, and he stomps over to the door. “Here I am, trying to be a good host! Perhaps I just won’t make you any food. Let you go back to your tent hungry!”

Snufkin leans against the lip of the tub, sticking his lower lip out and widening his eyes like Snorkmaiden does when she wants to get her way. 

“Surely such a noble Moomintroll wouldn’t let a poor, desperate vagabond like me starve.” 

Moomintroll pauses in the doorway, eyebrow raised. “I haven’t quite decided,” voice dripping with faux haughtiness. Snufkin can’t help himself and he chuckles, snorting in between breaths. He catches Moomintroll’s smile out of the corner of his eye, and then the door is closed and Snufkin is alone again. 

He does want to stay in the tub, but the water is beginning to cool and the bubbles are rapidly dissolving. He hauls himself out, drying himself quickly and mechanically. Baths are better than rivers in the sense that he doesn’t have to worry about any stray bug staying in his fur or mop of hair. The towel drags over his chest and the smattering of fur that seems to grow thicker every year. It’s even begun to spread to his collarbone, though he suspects that's where it will stop. Even the hairiest mumriks he had met weren’t fuzzy all over. 

The clothes Mamma chose for him is a cozy blue sweater he had seen her knitting all last fall and a pair of trousers that he is pleased to note have a small spot for his tail to go through. The trousers are old, and soft, but fit well enough. 

The sweater goes over his head and Snufkin catches sight of himself in the mirror. 

_ Hello _ , he thinks. The Snufkin in the mirror looks older than he remembers. Like a proper young man, with a properly furry nose and a charming smile. The Snufkin in the mirror blinks.  _ You could be someone to fall in love with, _ says something traitorous in the back of his head. In protest, he runs his paw through his slightly damp hair, causing pieces to stick up awkwardly. 

He turns quickly and opens the door, only to meet Little My face to face in the hallway. 

Well, waist to face, really. Little My stares up at him. 

Snufkin meets her gaze. 

“Yes?” 

Little My just keeps staring, for long enough that Snufkin debates just continuing his way downstairs. He’s just barely lifted his foot when she decides to speak. 

“I need advice,” she says. Snufkin’s tail twitches. He’s almost flattered, since it’s so rare that Little My asks for any sort of help, and Snufkin does pride himself on giving very good advice.

“What can I help you with, little one?”

Little My rolls her eyes. “Not advice from  _ you, _ silly. You’ll just tell me to spend some time in the woods or, I dunno. Eat worms.” Snufkin frowns. “And I don’t need your help to eat worms.” His frown deepens. “I need advice from Moomintroll.” 

That brings Snufkin to a pause. Not that Moomintroll doesn’t have his own merits and strengths, he wasn’t normally someone Little My would ask help from. Ever. 

Little My is already nodding, like she knows exactly what Snufkin is thinking. She probably does. 

“You shouldn’t think so unkindly about your boyfriend, dear brother. Very occasionally he has uses other than being a furry, lumpy bed.”

“He’s not my- you know he’s not my boyfriend,” counters Snufkin. Little My just raises an eyebrow and looks behind him into the bathroom. Snufkin flushes.

“Sure,” she says, turning to walk towards the stairs. “And I wear Snorkmaiden’s nightdress in the winter for  _ platonic _ reasons.”

Snufkin nods determinedly. Then her words settle in. 

“Wait, what?” 

Little My simply grins toothily at him before hopping down the stairs and out of sight. Snufkin refuses to follow her immediately. It’s the principle of the thing. Or something.

Downstairs is a cozy chaos, which just about sums up the average Moominhouse experience for Snufkin. While they were getting clean, Sniff and Snorkmaiden had shown up. Little My was excitedly showing them a tooth she had found on their trek earlier. Snufkin nods his head politely at the group, barely noticed due to Sniff’s loud worrying over what could have lost a tooth the size of Little My’s hand. 

Snufkin does hear his sister offer to string the tooth up and make it a beautiful and dangerous gift for a beautiful and dangerous maiden. 

He opens the kitchen door to be smacked in the face with a menagerie of smells. Moomintroll is laughing, chopping up carrots to put into a large salad bowl beside him. Moominmamma chides him for something as she begins to gather up bowls and utensils to carry out to the table. 

“Oh, Snufkin,” Moomintroll pauses in his chopping for a moment. “Perfect timing! Dinners almost ready.” He turns back to the carrots. “If you’re staying that is.” 

Snufkin relieves Moominmamma of the things she was carrying, and she smiles warmly at him. “I will, thank you.” He can’t see Moomintroll’s expression, but he watches his friend’s tail swish happily behind him. 

As he carries the tableware out of the kitchen, he lets himself take a breath. It’s kind of Moomintroll to check in again, always giving him an out. A way to go, without feeling too terribly once he’s gone. It makes the staying easier, to know the leaving’s possible. 

Before long the table is set, Moomintroll having carried out a large container of soup that made Snufkin realize how very hungry he was indeed. Moominmamma had made fresh bread as well, which Sniff took no time to dig into. As bowls are passed his way, Snufkin holds them for Moomintroll to fill. They don’t spill a drop, and after a quick affirmation that Moominpappa is still off at the Hemulen’s with a promise to be back before too long, the party happily digs in. 

Snufkin genuinely enjoys meals at Moominhouse. The bustle and conversation are familiar, settling in his stomach pleasantly, right next to his dinner. He enjoys watching Little My harass Moomintroll, watching him threaten to flick food back at her until Moominmamma clears her throat. He is very fond of the way Snorkmaiden lights up whenever he asks her about her writing, even if he only understands a third of the plot. He even has a soft spot for Sniff’s near constant praise of the food, even if he wished that his friend would at least try to chew with his mouth closed. 

Very occasionally, when Snufkin hasn’t spoken in a while and he is patiently listening to Moominmamma explain to him the benefits of something or another, he will feel Moomintroll’s tail with his own and Snufkin will just barely find the strength in him not to curl his own around it. 

Later, when the dishes have been washed and his family sits in the living room chatting, Snufkin strays to the door. He doesn’t want to leave yet, but his tail twitches with the need for some fresh air. 

Like magic, Moomintroll appears at his side with two mugs of cocoa. 

“Mind stepping out with me?” Snufkin smiles and nods, relieved. He catches Moominmamma’s look before he’s completely out the door, something knowing. His paw fumbles with the handle. 

Outside is lovely. The last fingers of summer are loosening their grip on the valley, the edges of everything going yellow and orange. 

The pair makes their way down to the bridge at Moomintroll’s request. Snufkin tucks his feet underneath him, Moomintroll dangling his own off the side. The cocoa is a comfort in Snufkin’s paws, the warmth slipping past his fur and into his veins. 

“Thank you,” Moomintroll says after a sip of hot cocoa. For clarity, he adds: “for staying.” 

“Of course.” Snufkin takes a breath. “All you ever have to do is ask.” 

Moomintroll inhales sharply. “Is that true?” he asks, voice quiet. 

“I think so,” Snufkin replies. He feels awfully foolish, because he should have a more concrete answer shouldn’t he? “I mean, I want it to be. That you could just ask me to stay and I would hear it and be fine.” 

“You’ve done it before. I think about that one winter quite a bit, when you left only after we started hibernating.” 

Snufkin thinks about it too, the way Moomintroll had begged him not to go, the way he couldn’t do anything but to promise his presence. 

“It’s hard to say no to you like that.” 

Moomintroll leans away from him, enough that no one else would have noticed. Snufkin noticed, because it’s Moomintroll and Snufkin takes great care to notice Moomintroll. 

“I don’t want you to be unhappy.” 

Snufkin sets down his cocoa and reaches his friend’s paw. “I don’t want you to be unhappy either.” 

They both look up. Snufkin feels so effortlessly  _ known _ under Moomintroll’s stare. No one does know him better, and there’s something coiling equal parts scared and loved in his stomach at the thought. 

“Not having you at all would make me the most unhappy. I am perfectly content to have you in all the bits and pieces you are willing to give, and I promise I won’t ask for anymore than that.” Moomintroll takes a breath, and continues. “I will ask you what  _ you  _ want to give, though. And what you want in return.” 

Snufkin’s eyes are burning hot and beginning to well. “And if I don’t know the answer?” 

Moomintroll interlocks his fingers with Snufkin’s. “Then I will ask if you want me to help you figure it out. And if the answer is that you have to go, I will wait here with a cup of tea on your return.” 

Snufkin, slowly, as to not startle his friend, unwinds his paw from Moomintroll’s grasp and slips his arms around him, face buried into his fuzzy neck. 

“You are too good for me,” Snufkin says, slightly muffled. 

Strong, gentle,  _ loving _ arms hold him tight. “I often think the same of you.” 

Snufkin laughs, blinking away tears. “What criminals we are, to have swindled our way into places of such high praise.” He can feel Moomintroll’s chuckle in his own chest. He extracts himself from his position, turning to tuck himself beside Moomintroll inside of practically sitting on top of him. He is warm, his arm looping around Snufkin’s shoulders pleasantly. 

They stay there, holding each other for long enough that their cocoa is sure to be cold. 

“Loving you feels like freedom.” Moomintroll stills underneath him, and Snufkin worries that he has said too much. A breath, and Moomintroll relaxes against him again. 

“Loving you,” Moomintroll says, “feels like waking up on the first day of spring.” He nuzzles the top of Snufkin’s head in a moomin kiss. “Full of possibilities, and birdsong like a fairytale.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! this is not my first time writing moomins but it is my first time posting it! i hope y’all enjoyed, and feel free to follow me on twitter, tumblr, and instagram @fioblah where i post a lot of moomin art! :)


End file.
